


There are no maps to find you

by NotInTheMood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Past Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotInTheMood/pseuds/NotInTheMood
Summary: Hermione's work achieved many things for magical creatures rights. But the prejudice against those with magical creature's blood (and other types of half-bloods) has only increased. And this will. not. do.Or, work brings Hermione and Fleur together.





	1. Crying out loud

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I should be writting an article for my mastership. But no.
> 
> Not my chacarters.  
> Don't speak english.
> 
> Hope it doesn't suck.

Right now, there are six werewolves students at Hogwarts. When they turn, during the full moon, they don't go to a shabby hideout, but to the infirmary.

 

At least three half-giants are enlisted to begin at the school next term. The war increased de number of children with magical creature blood - some out of love, some out of something else. But after the war, it was mostly out of love. Nothing like impending death and destruction to make people overcome their fears. During the war, and a couple of years after, there was a lot of marriages around the magical world, many between witches/wizards and creatures - like known werewolves, veelas, merpeople and others - and muggles.

 

It's beautiful. This new world that's just beginning.

 

But not for some.

 

Hermione was seated at her kitchen table reading and finishing breakfast. Summer was just gone, the weather a little more agreeable. She inhaled deeply looking through the window: London was waking up and the city was all she could see...until a large black owl appeared. The paper tied on its leg was a bright shade of purple, a Ministry code for emergency. She opened it right away.

_ Ms Granger, please come as soon as you receive this. _

_ Apparently, some half-breed families have been victims of some sort of attack. _

_ Emergency interdepartmental meeting. _

_ See you soon, _

_ Alex Goellner _

__

Her hair was still wet from the shower and she was only wearing socks, underwear and a sweater a little too big. But it was time to run. So she just put on some jeans and apparated at the ministry's entrance. Harry was already there, and so was Mr Weasley.  _ Aurors, misuse of magic, magical creatures...  _ Hermione counted on her mind, wondering who else would come.

_ Do you know anything about it? _  She asked Harry.

_ Some arsehole sent letters threatening families. We are waiting for the minister, he has one. _

_ Who are the families? _  The witch asked.

_ We don't know yet, nor how many. _

Kingsley arrived soon after, calling everyone's attention.

_ Good morning, everyone. I'm sorry for calling you back so soon, but it is an emergency. We received numerous alerts about cursed letters been received by witches and wizards from interracial families. So far, we count at least twenty victims, the majority werewolves and giants families. But there are probably more to come. Here's what they say. _

He showed the letter for everyone to read. Hermione's brow creased as she finished the parchment. It was like a punch in the gut, that sort of thing only ten years after the war.

_ Magic is an ancient holy thing _

_ To pollute it with your kind is a sin _

_ Take your blood where it belongs: _

_ alway from us. _

_ Or we will do it for you. _

 


	2. Chapter 2

Fleur Isabelle Delacour can't say she loves London (France would be mad at her), but she can say she does not hate the city. There really is something magic and ancient about the place. Hell, she has to at least like it, seeing as she stayed after her divorce. But, you see, the thing is: she did want to share parenthood. William should always be as responsible and present as she is in their child's life. She also didn't want Victoire to live so far from her papa. And, to be completely honest, going back to France would mean going back to her parents' house and their interference in Vic's life and education. No to mention in her own life.

 

_ S'eveillier, mon petit fraise!" _ , she calls for Victoire. The girl sure likes her beauty sleep. But it's that time of the year. Another great idea from the Brightest Witch of Her Age. Since Great Britain doesn't have formal education for magic kids under eleven, they have to attend a summer school of sorts. More than knowledge, the point is to promote integration, without house divisions and competitions. There they don't learn how to do magic, but to understand it. It's a little pain in the ass, what with the logistics. But Fleur really thinks it's great.

 

_ "Maman...s'ill vouz plait..." _

 

The girl is beautiful. She has her maman blonde hair and her dad freckles. And...yellowish eyes. Something that frightened her parents right after her birth. William never turned after he was bitten, and as soon as they discovered the pregnancy Fleur and Bill asked the medwizards about it. It's still very rare to be bitten at adulthood by someone that was not turned, but every medwizard and medwitch were quite certain that the baby was safe and would not suffer from the condition.

 

She's four by now and other than yellowish eyes, a temper, and a lot of stamina, there's no wolf in her. Victoire is not exactly a veela either. The creature blood in her own is too diluted, but still there. Fleur hopes she won't suffer from thrall affects when the time comes. She still sits with her daughter every day and talks about the ancient magic in her blood, the ancient beings within her and how to embrace them.

 

She tried to teache William too. Besides the raw meat, William would get a little discomfort during the full mon, sensitive and temperamental. He accepted some of her help for some time. But then his brother died. Fred's death took the light away from all his family. William became more sensible to his wolfish instincts. The redhead was always afraid of hurting her or Vic during one of his drunken crises. And that was the beginning of their marriage's end.

 

After dropping Vic at the Tiny Wizards Initiative, as George calls it, Fleur heads to work. Ten years later and she's at the front of the Found Treasures Department. A new law, from a couple years early, changed things quite a bit. Now, the treasures found should be split between Gringotts and the descendants of the original owners. Better later than never, she guesses.

 

_ "Ms Delacour! How are you? Is everything ok with you? Is Victoire alright?" _

 

_ "Good morning to you, too, Angie. Yes, my daughter and I are both fine, thank you for asking" _ , Fleur responded. Angie is part of the research team, who looks the inheritance of the treasures. She's great if a little too spirited and talkative.

 

_ "Oh, Morgana! You don't know, do you? Well, I think that's a good sign. It means..." _

 

_ "Can you please just tell me what should I be knowing about?" _ , the french interrupted. With Angie, she never knew when there was really a reason for worry.

 

_ "There have been attacks to muggle and mestice families, ma'am" ,  _ Peggy, one of her aurors said,  _ "cursed letters were sent yesterday to various houses around the city". _

 

As if on cue, her fireplace lit, with William's head in the middle.

_ "Fleur! I've been trying to find you since this morning!" _ , her ex-husband started. Peggy, who was (thank Morgana, at this moment) very British, took Angie and the others out of the room.  _ "Is Vic ok? Are you? Did you received a letter?" _ , he went on.

 

_ "William, we are fine. Vic's alright. I've just known. What happened? Is anyone hurt?" _

 

_ "No. Some younger kids got really scared, but that was all. The letters had some kind of curse, once opened it starts to show something, like one of those muggle movies. Fleur, I think is better if you and Vic come stay with us for a couple of days..." _

 

_ "I just drop her at school. Is it safe there?" _

 

_ "Yes, I think it is. I talked to Harry, they sent a team of Aurors" _

__

_ "William, please pick her up and take her to your mother's with you. I'm staying". _


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione Jean Granger is having a hell of a week. It started with those dam letters and went on with every magical creature liaison reaching out to her. They wanted to take their kids back to their territories, though it would be safer. Apparently, if you are made of two things, you have to choose one to live with. Always in half, never whole. 

 

It's about eight when she arrives home. There's a postcard waiting for her at the table next to the door, with her mother's handwriting on it and a beautiful photo of an old Thailand temple. They should be coming back in three weeks. It's normal enough, common enough. It's what they have done every time her parents travel. The witch doesn't think twice as she grabs it. But maybe she should.

 

Some kind of myst arises from the paper. It surrounds

 around Hermione and forms images, like a 3D movie. There's a large courtyard, beautiful and divided by big, strong walls that forms a square-shaped area. Inside there are humans, wizards actually. The creatures are outside, all of them. Every time one tries to enter the wizards' area they evaporate in a cloud of blood, like dust. Every time a wizard and a creature try to reach for each other they turn up in flames, crying in agony. And then, it's all over and Hermione falls onto a chair.

 

They got to her. Whomever they are. She's not scared, not really. Not for her. What makes her head spin is what they know: her parents' travel, her mothers' handwriting, the way they keep in touch. What else do they know? Are her parents in danger? No. Their targets are interracial witches and wizards. Right? Hermione takes a deep breath. The screams from the cursed letter still ringing in her ears. So much like the screams from that night, like her own screams. Suddenly she's exhausted, her head weighing a thousand pounds.

 

_ Now is not the time _ , she tells herself,  _  there's much to be done _ .

She dials Harry's number on the cell, puts it on the speaker and starts examining the letter while waiting. 

 

_ "Mione?" _ , Harry pick up,  _ "what's up?" _

 

_ "I received one... A letter, I mean... Cursed. They used a postcard, like the ones my parents send... I'm looking at them and there's nothing to be found, Harry! Nothing! No trace!" _

 

_ "WHAT? Hermione, calm down. Open the floo, I'm going there" _ , he told her.

 

Ten minutes later her living room was full of people. Harry brought Ginny and Ron with him. _  "I hope you don't mind, but Ginny was with me and Ron would kill me if I didn't call him" _ , the man explained.

 

_ "It's fine, Harry, nevermind." _

 

She told every detail from the letter, or better, postcard. To her friends and later to the Aurors that arrived. Harry sent a team after her parents and she called them as soon as she could. Then, the golden girl updated the protection around her apartment.  _ At least _ , she thought,  _ the week is not getting worse _ .

 

At night she dreams of a mansion inside a square-shaped terrain. Ron and Harry are outside and when they try to get to her their arms turn in to dust of blood. Bellatrix Lestrange carves her arm with fire while hundreds of children in school robes scream with her. When morning arrives she's sure that this day is just yesterday stretched out.

_ "Hermione..." _

 

_ Shit, _  the witch thinks, recognising the voice. Fleur's voice is not strange to her anymore. Not after Shell Cottage. Hermione winces inside her head. She doesn't dislike the French witch. She resents her. The Brightest Witch of Her Age never liked opening up or showing weakness, or to lose her self-control. But after Bellatrix, she hadn't had a choice. She needed help. Fleur ended up being the one who saw her helpless, seven feet under what should be her bottom. The Triwizard champion witnessed her sadness and despair. And for that, she was never quite really comfortable around the french. So, yeah, discomfort and guilt were her go-to feelings when Fleur was involved.

 

_ "Fleur...Hullo" _ , she answers, trying not to sound upset.  _ "How is everything going? And Victoire?" _

 

_ "Bonn, a little tense, non? Victoire's staying at the Burrow for now. William and I think is better." _

 

_ "Oh Morgana, Fleur, I wasn't thinking... Did you receive one too? The girl saw those things?" _ , she asks.

 

_ "Non, non. She is fine, we sent her there as soon as we knew... What do you mean? Did YOU receive one?" _

 

There it was again. The blonde seeing her vulnerable, maybe hurt. 

 

_ "Oh, good. You are both here. This helps a lot. We need you both. Merlin's beard, we need everyone's help!" _ , the minister of magic says. Kingsley arrival saves the brunette from answering.

 

_ "What kind of help?" _ , Fleur asks.

 

_ "With what?" _ , Hermione says at the same time.

 

_ "We are finally hearing your ideas, Ms Granger. The Ministry is forming a... council of sorts, with civilians of various heritages to help us come up with the best way to protect our people and deal with the threats" _ , the minister explains.

 


	4. Chapter 4

No one knows, but The Golden Girl has her personal mantra. Yes, that is very American of her, but she did date one for two years, she was bound to pick up on some things. So, it says  _ On the day shittier, I'll give myself a beer _ . What? She's no poet.

 

Sitting at a table outside a pub near the Ministry, Hermione lets the day run away from her. Going from her shoulders to the sunset. She comes here sometimes after work, alone or with the boys, when she's too tired to go home. Like today, when the minister of magic himself told her that her idea it's turning to action. Or something resembling her idea. She's been telling them for ages now that the Ministry needs to be more representative of all magical folk and not only wizardkind. But not as an occasional invite and, instead, enrolling these people in their ranks.

 

She must be with one of her "ugly-focused" faces, as Ron calls it, 'cause one known french witch is looking at her in a funny way. 

 

_ "Something on your mind?" _ , Fleur asks with a chuckle.  _ Twice in a day _ , Hermione thinks.

 

_ "Just the day's occurrences..." _ , she tells, thinking about the meeting tomorrow and how it will work.

 

_ "It's not one of the best, I would think" _ , the blonde agrees.  _ "I think I'll look for a table inside. Are you waiting for someone?" _

 

_ "What? No. You can sit if you want. It's ok."  _ Hermione assures her.

 

_ "So what is making your face look like that? Should I guess? That so-called 'council', right?" _

 

_ "It must be a really ugly face. Right on the first try.",  _ the brunette starts, " _ It's just so difficult to grasp my mind around it, you know? How blind wizardkind can be. Even the most intelligent ones can't see too far. You know how long I've been telling that the very existence of a department to deal with 'creatures' is nonsense! How can I treat a centaur like an animal? Or elves, or goblins? Don't they realise, the entire wizard society behaves the way those letters describe?" _ , the younger woman goes on a rampant while Fleur observes her. There's a special kind of fire in her speech, a rage similar to passion.

 

_ "You know I'm a veela, right?" _

 

_ "Yes! Do see it? 'Cause, they look at muggles like they are from outer space! Even those who say they don't are prejudiced. Like Mr Weasley, he treats muggles like they are pets or incapable little kids. Ronald would get all worked up when I didn't use magic, like the muggle way is a lesser way of doing things!" _

 

_ "It's that why you two broke up?" _ , the french intervenes. Not because she doesn't agree with everything, just out of curiosity.

 

_ "No. It's not something I like to talk about." _

 

_ "Have you dated since?" _

 

_ "It's been eight years! Off course I have!" _ , Hermione exclaims. What did the other woman think?

 

_ "Right! What was her name again? I remember when Ginny told us! Harry was so red that I thought he would turn ginger too!" _

 

_ "Jessica, her name is Jessica." _

 

_ "I wish I've met her..." _ , Fleur muses.

 

_ "I wasn't exactly a member of the Weasley Clan, wasn't entitled to a plus one for the reunions" _

 

_ "You know I'm the French who married her firstborn, right? I mean, I get Harry's situation: an orphan boy, the same age as her own. And, well, a boy, like the other six she had. But, I guess she could be more welcoming for others too. You know, Molly Weasley is... how you say... a mama's boy! Or a boy's mummy!",  _ she gets out.

 

_ "That's not a saying, but is absolutely right!" _ , Hermione laughs,  _ "Why would boys need so much pampering?!" _ , she says and they both laugh.

 

Fleur asks for another beer and lights a cigarette. Hermione gives her a side glance, watching her motions.

 

_ "I can't see Molly Weasley approving your antics" _ , the brunette teases. Fleur chuckles at this. 

 

_ "It's well known that she didn't". _  She raises her bottle,  _ "A toast, to the outsiders of the Weasley Clan" _ .

 

_ "What were you doing there today, anyway?" _ , Hermione asks as she remembers their encounter. The question probably came out a little harsh, but she is tired and a little drunk.  _ "Sorry, that came out harsh" _ , she says.

 

_ "Well, you know how we only get things done when in emergencies?" _ , the blonde looks at Hermione, who doesn't seem to relate.  _ "Forgot who I am talking to. I didn't get the permissions for international floo calls for my place." _

 

Hermione hails a cab, it's not a good idea to apparating while tipsy. Fleur fishes for something in her purse and gives the younger woman a piece of parchment,  _ "sent a message that you arrived home safe _ ", she asks.

 

_ "Why is always you to take care of me?" _ , the brunette asks, taking the enchanted paper.

 

_ "Because that is all you can remember, but it's not true. The truth is, we take care of each other" _ , Fleur responds as the car takes off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not error-proof read, but it'll be. Someday.

_"_

_ "Because that is all you can remember, but it's not true. The truth is, we take care of each other" _ ...

 

It may be the alcohol. It may be Fleur's words. Hell, maybe it's both. Anyway, it's like a spell has left Hermione's mind and even before she can consider the affirmation properly she already knows it's true. Somehow, over the years they have been linked, the two witches have often looked after each other. The first time, sure, it was Shell Cottage - and no matter how hard the younger witch tried, she couldn't picture herself letting anyone but Fleur seen her that way. Not Ron, definitely not Harry. Even Ginny. Then, she thinks it was right after the battle. The Weasleys were all together around Fred's body, along with Harry, Fleur and herself. But Ron was not by her side or Harry's, he was with his brothers and parents. Harry and Ginny were holding one another. And she...well, she tried not to, but she was feeling a little like an intruder. Hermione loved Fred, sure. Still, it felt like there wasn't her place. And when she looked ahead she saw the same thing on Fleur. The blonde was crying the loss of someone dear to her, without sharing the same loss as the others. The younger witch walked towards her, wanting to embrace the other witch but thought it would be too much. She settled for a hand at her shoulder, a small gesture, but some comfort-offering. Fleur looked at her with gratitude and understanding, reaching out to lightly touch Hermione's hip. There they were, taking care of each other.

 

Hermione doesn't feel so self-conscious after that. They were...not friends. But they were available, sensible. She goes to sleep thinking about her luck, for having people who have her back. Not in the same way, for sure. Ginny is a solid presence by her side, always ready to push her further and fight for her. No matter how many times she has saved his arse, Ron still behaves as an overprotective older brother, fussing around her. And Harry...well, he can be more perceptive than Ron, but not really capable of dealing with what he perceives. He loves her, thou.

 

Next morning arrives with the kind of rest that only the light buzz of beer can provide. She goes around the house picking things up: a pair of socks and a hoodie because is bloody cold; some eggs and bacon in the fridge, milk and coffee. The muggle-born likes to cook without magic, she knows the spells alright, but the food always tastes a little off. Turning on the radio she starts to prepare her meal, her mind running free while she does so.

_ She descends the stairs from the Burrow when she hears a heated conversation on the living room and gets stuck. If she continues they'll see her and things will get awkward. But if she stays..well, she'll end up listening. _

 

_ "I don't think I can do this anymore, Fleur", Bill's voice announces and Hermione winces. She's stuck listening to a couple's fight. _

 

_ "Yes, you can, William. I know you can. You are ok", she assures the wizard, without much success apparently. _

 

_ "I can feel it, Fleur... clawing its way out of me. It's like I can't even breath. I can't hold it inside, I'm getting out of my mind...", he continues as if nothing had been said, early despair floating from his mouth. _

 

_ "Mon couer, we've talked about this, remember. You can't turn. You are not able to. This thing that you are feeling is not a wolf inside of you, it's your grief. I loved him too, we all did", the French tells her husband and Hermione can tell how much she needs him to know that, to understand what she's saying. _

 

_ "No. It's not just that..I know! Look at me!", he screams at her and, at her hideout, Hermione flinches. She wished he wouldn't yell like this at someone, at his wife. She knows what he means, though. He's pale and thin, his eyes are dark and his once red long hair is now lifeless and yellowish. _

 

_ "William, even if you were a werewolf, it wouldn't be the end of the world. It would not mean you are some kind of monster. You can control it, all these things you feel. You just have to accept who you are, what you are" _

 

_ "I don't know how", he says, defeated, "I'm going for a walk", he warns and leaves. _

 

_ Hermione doesn't think much before leaving her hideout. Just goes where she wants to be, where she feels like she needs to be. _

 

_ "How come you always end up taking care of the broken ones?", she asks as a half-hearted joke. Fleur just chuckles in response, humourless. Her eyes are fixed on the opposite wall, above the couch, but Hermione can tell that she's seeing some when or where far away from here and now. She moves to the couch and plops down crossing her legs under herself and the younger witch follows. _

 

_ "He'll come around, y' know. You have a way with mending people back. It worked with me", the brunette tries again. She means it. _

 

_ "You can spend your whole life helping someone. It doesn't matter if they don't want to help themselves. We are the only one capable of mending ourselves back together after been broken. You are the only responsible for standing here now, not me, petit lionne." _

 

_ Bloody hell. Hermione's really used to Harry and Ron's standards of dealing with things. What Fleur says disarms her, more than anything have in a long time. "Thanks, I guess" is all she can say for a while. And then, "I still think he'll come around. This family, they are really close, you know. Being a big bunch of red-headed mess is what they are, always have been. And the twins are almost the incarnation of this. His grieving will lessen eventually". She believes that, truly does. What else could they do but learn how to live with the loss. But she can't promise anything. She hasn't made one single promise since the war. And for that, she adds "And even in the foggiest chance that Bill doesn't, if everything turns down in the wrong direction, you will be alright. You are Fleur Delacour, Triwizard champion, order of the Phoenix, curse-breaker and all-smartass-French. You are like that poem, you would still rise, no matter what". _

 

_ Fleur's looking at her with so much intent in her eyes. Like she never expected to hear Hermione talk like that, or say those kinds of thing. "So, I'm like you", she says. _

 

Yeah, maybe they do take care of each other.

 

Surprisingly, she isn't the first one to arrive at the Ministry. Fleur is already there, seated at the lounge in front of the meeting room. She's reading a magazine but looks up at the movement, recognition showing on her face as she sees Hermione. "Why, good morning, Ms Granger! No hungover, I wish?", it's what she offers as a greeting, making the other witch blush.

 

"Morning, Fleur. No, no hangovers, thanks. I - hm - I'm sorry for all the rambling. I get like that sometimes"

 

"Don't apologise. You are completely right. If I wasn't so distracted myself we could've come up with a new bill of rights or something!"

 

Hermione laughs and takes a seat. Soon she's entertained revising her notes for today until a new arrival catches her attention. No one other than Luna Lovegood is sitting across from her. "Luna!", she exclaims getting up and hugging the blonde. It's been months since she last saw the girl. "What are you doing here? I thought you were travelling!

 

"Mione! Hullo, it's good to see you. How is Crookshanks?", the Ravenclaw retorts. Hermione's amused that from everything she could inquire about, that's the topic she chooses. After all these years she's still taken by surprise with Luna. But now she understands the woman better and admires her wisdom.

 

"Still cranky, I guess"

 

"It seems like him", she says to no one in particular. Luna gets her purse and seats again, taking a crossword on her lap.

 

Hermione keeps looking at her as Fleur watches the interaction with amusement. As Luna doesn't say anything else she goes back to her chair and tries to read some more. It doesn't take long. 

 

"Humm...Luna..?", she starts. The other hums in response. "We are... I mean...This is the waiting room for a meeting. I'm sure you can stay here while you wait, but..."

 

"Oh, I know. The 'Muggle-borns, Magical Creatures and Wizards Alliance", right? Are you going to participate too? I didn't know you have creature blood. I always thought you have something else, thou. A little of muggle, a little witch and a little of something else. Maybe a descendant of the great Owler People? You know, magical owls that are half-humans. Very intelligent and observant. The post owls are related to them. Have you ever felt like flying? Or maybe reading in the dark? Anyway...I ended up concluding that the third part was just a little, you know, you", she rambles on.

 

Fleur's chuckles can be heard behind Hermione's blank mind.  _ Well, Luna... _  she thinks. "What? No! I'm here as a Muggle-born, which is all I am. At least that I know of", she muses. Now that she thinks about it, it would make sense if she were descendant of the Owler People, if they existed, that is. "Luna...you mean to say that you have creature blood?" she asks, finally turning her attention to the new information. It couldn't be, right? She had known Luna for about fifteen years!

 

"Yes", she says simply, "You didn't know? I guess there are not many people who know. My grandfather was a botanic back in Ireland. He had floriculture and liked going into the woods to find new plants. My grandmother thought he was really funny with all his weird instruments. My grandmother, you see, she was a forest ninth. When my mother was born my grandfather had to move to the woods so she could grow with her own kind. It was rather difficult. He was a muggle and manage to fall for a ninth and have a half-witch as a daughter. They are all gone now, but sometimes I like to go to the trees behind father's house and lay there. It's almost like they are there with me. I can even hear them sometimes", she tells with her dreamy eyes.

 

Luna and her unbarred sincerity. For the first time in a way to short a period of time, she's affronted with a simple truth that should have been seen before. It ALL makes a lot of sense. She has to tell the others when she encounters them. Wait...Is it possible they already know? "Luna... I never knew...", Hermione breaths out.

 

"Well, I would've told you sooner, but you never asked. I assumed you just knew or wasn't that interested". The younger woman isn't mad or hurt, only stating some facts.

 

"Sorry, Luns. I should've been more attentive towards you. You always are with us." It's true. In her own manner, Luna always takes care of them.

 

"S'ok, Mione. We are all still learning how to be kind with one another".

 

"Hi!", Fleur interjects, "I'm Fleur, don't know if you remember me?" She has this look in her face, one of extreme awe. Hermione guesses that's one reaction they always count on Luna to produce.

 

The meeting is bollocks and she's more than a little frustrated. Five minutes into the thing and she realised there were no goblins or house-elves present. Kingsley earned a heated reproachful speech about it. They are expected at the next encounter after that. But she meets a lot of interesting people, so is worth it. A centaur called Michel, whose grandparents are a centaur and a veela!  _ Merlin's beard did they had to fight to be together! _  Theo, an adult werewolf who's finishing his training as medwizard. A woman called Guinevere that makes Hermione excited and afraid at the same time. She sticks with afraid.

 

It ends briefly, though. And for really bad reasons.

 

A junior Auror enters the room like the building is on fire and can't hold his tongue as he crosses the door. "Minister, Mr Potter, there's been an attack. A real one, a werewolf, near Kensington...", he blurts out.

 

"Anthony, do please shut up!", Harry demands. But it's too late. They would know sooner or later, anyway. Probably in a better manner, but it's done.

 

"Do please don't shut up, Anthony!", Hermione retorts getting up. Harry looks at her surprised at been contested and at her behaviour. "Please, tell us what happened. That's what we are here for, to help".

 

The boy looks at the parchment in his hand, which is trembling a bit. "Hmm, Romulo Knight, a 30-year man, was forced to turn by a group of masqueraded people. The...the procedure it's known to be very difficult and painful. It was developed by F-Fenrir Greyback and it is a lot worse if the person resists it. He was then hit with a spell and left in a square in Wizard Kensington. There's a... There's a target painted at his chest... with...silver".

 

Harry jumps to action, giving the boy a series of orders. "Send a warning to all registered werewolves. Do NOT alarm them. Someone needs to go to Hogwarts and look after the students there", he looks at Hermione then, "I'm calling for the immediate closing of the Tiny Wizards Initiative".

 

Everyone in the room, except for Hermione, Fleur and Luna, look like they don't understand. Hermione does, and she is furious.

 

"Err... I mean...The Threads of Wizarding Institute", he says. But it's not the nickname that ensured his best friend's rage and he knows it. "Hermione, we have to. If something happens at the school, can you imagine? I don't know if we can secure the place well enough. It's best if the kids are at home, with their parents. They'll protect them".

 

"Do you even remember how it was to you when they threatened to close the school? And they never did. No matter what. Because it's not just a school, just a place. It means something, Harry..."

 

"Well, maybe they should have!", the man screams, "Dumbledore should have closed the school! A lot of times. McGonagall too..." he trails off. It doesn't need to go on. She knows what he's thinking. She agrees the place had some shitty standards of student safety and preservation. But she understands why Hogwarts remained opened all those times of peril.

 

"If we close it now it'll' mean a different thing. It'll mean giving up, running away. It would mean bending to fear", she goes on. The room is watching them like a quidditch match and she isn't sure who's winning. "We don't bend to fear, remember? Gryffindor courage and all".

 

"The decision is made, Hermione. And for the best", he ends the argument. Or so he thinks.

 

"You don't have the authority to do that", her voice calm now, even. But oh so serious.

 

"I am the head of the Auror Department and it is my job to evaluate threatening scenarios and come up with the best strategies and actions. This is my assessment. The children will be safer at their homes"

 

Kingsley looks serious thorn between the two. War heroes or not, they are both valuable and capable young people. Both with a great future ahead of them at the ministry, if they wish so. He can see a point in both arguments. "Let's take a breath, ok. Potter, I understand your concern, but that is a big decision to make in such a short time. Granger, I see your point two, but safety comes first".

 

"Let's think of something else, then", someone proposes. It's Fleur.

 

"Pardon, Ms Delacour?", Kingsley blurts out a little surprised. It's almost like he forgot there were other people in the room.

 

"That's why we are all here, non? To help come up with ways to make things better?", the French continues. "My daughter is at the institute, right now actually. She knows something is happening, but not what it is. I think that, if the classes were to stop, she would get really frightened. Nevertheless, the place is one of the best initiatives the government came up with after the war. One that can actually help us preventing something like that from happening again in the future. It would be a hard blow to everything we created to see it closing its doors".

 

"That is true", a man at the far corner says. "My wife and I, we...well... we got it really bad at school for being different", he has A LOT of body hair going on, with very large shoulders and big arms. "We got really hopeful when the place opened. Our kids, they...they already have some friends and, when the time comes to send them to Hogwarts, we know they will be better than us at least".

 

"And, there are more...practical aspects. A lot of those children's parents are young wizards and witches that work, they would have to quit or at least take a leave. That can really hit us. I know is not something we like to think about, but the war also destroyed our economy. This would unbalance everything", this time is a witch who pronounces. Surprisingly, a globin - who came in later from Gringotts thanks to Hermione's protests, continues the witch's line of thought. "That is true. A lot of old fortunes flew the country when the dark lord started moving. There's not enough gold circulating, and if these wizards stop working they will be in a bad condition", he says.

 

Harry is looking at them, following the discussion. He's hit with some thought of his own, Hermione can see. His forehead is wrinkled and he has this face of "just took a sour potion" or something.

 

"And...there are the orphans. If the school is closed they are sent back to the Muggle orphanage and can't be properly protected there", he sounds defeated and a little ashamed.

 

There's something at Hermione's throat. Something big, and heavy and hard to swallow. Her eyes stung and she's out of breath. The Tiny Wizards Initiative is her baby. She's proud of it. But she never knew that other people felt the same way about it.

 

"If everyone likes it, we should all protect it", Luna says. Hermione is almost sure that she's talking to the room, but the girl is looking towards the window. The Brightest Witch of Her Age tries, but she can't quite grasp what Luna is saying. She isn't the only one.

 

Kingsley looks around the room one more time and decides to end things while they are still well-going. "It's five-third. Today's classes are almost over. We'll send a team of Aurors and teachers there to do everything they can. As today is Friday you'll have all the weekend to come up with something. Now, I think we can all use some rest".

 

Hermione says her good-byes from afar, too focused on having ideas to pay much attention to the others. If she would look more carefully, she would see a look in Harry's eye's that was never there before. A look of longing, yes, but a mixture of excitement and purpose. On Fleur's face, she would see sheer determination. Whatever was going on on her mind she was itching to get it done. And Luna... Luna was content, still looking through the window at a tree outside. Ok, she wouldn't know much - or anything - by looking at Luna's eyes. But if she were a legilimence...well, she would have a lot of trouble understanding the girl's mind. Even so, she would find out that the blonde knew exactly what she needed to do to protect the school. Hermione would also know that Luna was a teacher there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what I'm doing here. Hope it doesn't suck.

The city lights enter the bedroom by the open window turning everything inside blueish. If is not winter, or other night just as cold, she sleeps with the window open. It got her a sore throat more than once. The bed, big and fluffy, is comfy as always... but sleep refuses to take over. Or she refuses to let it take over. You see, the young witch is thinking about the meeting from earlier that day. She supposes by now she should've come up with at least one idea.  _ What did Luna mean when she said that? _  Hermione keeps asking herself. Luna, the girl - or yet, a woman now, they are adults - who are her friend for almost fifteen years.

How come she never asked anything about her life? Never tried, or wanted, to now the blonde better? The thing is, Hermione Granger is great at paying attention to things - and even things people do - but she's not so great paying attention to people. Reading people? Yes. Helping people with their stuff? Yes. Reaching out and asking about them? Not so much. It is known to happen, mind you. But not always (and probably less than it should).

 

Like, with Fleur. Hermione hadn't the foggiest about how the witch saw her initiative for wizard kids. Never even realised her daughter is attending. She could have had access to first-hand opinions about the whole thing...but no.  _ Stop being stupid! You are not thinking about her, you are thinking about work! _  she snaps at herself.  _ Pay attention to other peoples worries! _

 

She thinks back to the recent encounters with the French witch. The first day at the ministry when Fleur was...asking for an international floo connection for her place. An opening to France...for emergency purposes. Why would Fleur need to go to France in an emergency? Was she thinking about running? Fleur never run. She stayed in a foreign country to fight a war.  _ She has a child now, arsehole! That sure change things a bit. _

 

How must it be, having another life to worry about? Hermione knows she's a target. But she is not afraid. At home, at the ministry, in the street - they can come for her, she'll fight. She'll always fight. Give her the tiniest chance and she will use all her power to fight, until the end. It's ok if she goes, as long as she goes fighting. But she's alone. Is Fleur insecure? Is she so afraid as to consider fleeing England? Maybe she's terrified. How would Hermione know, she never asked.

She will change this. Tomorrow she'll write to Luna and Fleur.

 

When morning arrives, Hermione takes her tea and toasts to the living room, turning on the TV for some background noise. A sea of colourful flags, signs and people celebrating at the street takes the screen and Hermione gets curious - as always.  _ "Love wins: two years since same-sex marriage was approved by law" _ , the headline informs. Suddenly, those ideas evading Hermione's mind come in, all at once. She knows what they can do.

 

Her musing is cut short by a noise, something is beeping and buzzing in her bedroom. After a little bit of searching, the source turns out to be Fleur's enchanted parchment, where something is written.

_ Good morning, Hermione _

_ I hope you don't mind this method, I find it is faster than an owl. _

_ Anyway... would you like to meet today, to discuss our plans of actions for the ministry? _

_ I think it can be more effective if we all work together. I've already sent word to Harry. _

_ (I don't have Luna's contact...) _

Hermione eyes the paper.  _ Well, I'd like to agree, but how this thing works? _  As if reading her mind, a new message starts to appear:

_ Just write your answer with any pen or something like it _

_ Oh, ok _ , Hermione thinks. She fishes for a pen in her purse and starts an answer.

_ I was just about to send you an owl, your message beat me to it. _

_ Yes, I think that would be great. Can you come over? Around 3pm? _

_ I'll tell Harry and Luna. _

Then, as an afterthought, she included her address. After Fleur's reply arrives Hermione puts some preparations in order. It's still early, she has plenty of time to hide the mess around the place, take a shower and prepare a small lunch with whatever is in the fridge. With all done, there's still time to grab some snacks, beers and wine at the market nearby.

 

At three her alarm sounded, announcing someone's arrival. Fleur is at her door. Her blonde hair tied in a bun and dark glasses covering her eyes. She has a light pink long-sleeved blouse and high-waisted loose grey trousers. She seems comfortable and confident outside Hermione's window like she's out enjoying the afternoon. Hermione is reminded of the french's beauty - not that thrall-like one. Even without the extra magic running, Fleur is beautiful. "Hmm, Hermione? May I come in?", Fleur's voice echoes at the apartment via alarm spell.  _ Oh, right! _ , she thinks, letting the spell down for the woman.

 

Fleur takes her sweet time looking around the living room/kitchen and Hermione gets just a little self-conscious. The couch is comfortable, but old - and the armchair is the same. A little rustic, simple wooden table at the centre and the TV in the corner. The biggest wall is covered in photos, which doesn't scape the French's attention. One photo, in particular, catches her eye: Hermione is smiling for the camera, her hair in a wild ponytail. She's holding a little flag with coloured stripes. Fleur doesn't know the flag, but it makes the photo beautiful.

 

"Fleur...I hope you don't mind, but I asked Harry and Luna to come a little later", started the witch. She wants to talk to Fleur, to know how scared she is and try to ease some of it. (If she can. Like Fleur did for her those days.) The blonde turns Hermione's way, giving her time to continue. "You see...I remember what you said, about opening your floo for international calls, in case of emergency. Fleur...Are you thinking about fleeing the country? Because, I understand if you do, but you needn't. I know it scares, I'm scared too. But you are not alone..."

 

The only thing capable of stopping her speech is Fleur's smile. It's one thorn between amused and grateful. Maybe it's best if she lets the French talk for now. Fleur moves to the couch, inviting Hermione to join her. She tries to speak, but giggles. Hermione blushes. "Thank you for caring so much, Hermione. I am glad to know you think this way. But that is not it", she tells the younger witch. "I am scared, yes. But I know Victoire has very capable people around her, with me and with William. I also know that we are at risk, we are targets, but I won't teach my child to run away, to give in to fear". Hermione can only admire Fleur while she speaks, her fierceness, the way she truly, deeply, believes in what she's saying. She is not trying to show or prove anything. Just being herself.

 

Even thinking all of that, what she says is "Then why? The international opening, I mean... Sorry, that's...you don't need to answer". Fleur is smiling at her again. Hermione is sure amusing the blonde today. That's it, she is giving up on this "pay attention to people" thing.

 

"I need to talk to my Grandmère. I want to ask for protection, for Victoire", explains the blonde, but not recognising understanding in Hermione's face, she goes on, "an amulet of sorts. How can I say? We,  _ veelas _ , are connected with the old magic. A kind of magic that most wizards forgot a long time ago. We have ways of protecting ourselves, even with deluded blood, deep down, we are the same, we come from the same place. This is the reason for needing to contact France easily".

 

Hermione can not recall the last time she heard something as incredible as this. She thought about magic a lot of times since discovering herself a witch: where it came from, why there are wizards and muggles if it is a genetic difference or something. The answers never came and she stopped before losing her mind in musings. And now the woman in front of her tells her there is a different kind of magic, and people who understand it.

 

It really seems like Hermione is out there to amuse Fleur today. She is looking at Fleur like she discovered a hidden monument, a new continent. She looks at Fleur like the French's eye are a book she wants to get to the end of. And that really amuses the blonde: her passion, how carefree she is with the things she likes.

 

Fleur is smiling at her again, a smile that brings a cold breeze to Hermione's stomach. It's rare to have someone's attention like this, she can feel her face and ears getting hot and looks down, embarrassed.

The air is different in the room. They opened too much, showed too much, shared too much without realising - or intending. It's not bad - per se. Its just...they weren't ready. It surprised both of them, how close they were.

 

Hermione cleared her throat and went to the kitchen. "I have beer and red wine, which would you like?", she asks. Fleur accepts a beer and takes a seat at the high chair near the counter. The brunette tries hard to distract herself, but it doesn't work, "Fleur, what is the old magic?', she asks instead. That smile returns to the French's face. She reaches out and caresses Hermione's arm with her thumb. It's friendly and brief, and really new between to two. She motions to speak and

the alarm goes off again.


End file.
